


For Better or Worse

by Diary



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abortion, Acts of Kindness, Aunt-Nephew Relationship, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Pass, Family, Gen, POV Harry Potter, POV Male Character, Post-Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6453523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Repost. “Send me a letter if there ends up being complications.” Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Better or Worse

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter.

During the summers, the Weasleys have been teaching him and Hermione how to drive.

After their second year, when it was revealed Ron did all the driving when they stole the Ford Anglia, he and Hermione found themselves sitting in the Weasley's new car, and Mr Weasley was giving kind, cheerful directions. Later, in the evenings, Mrs Weasley would go over muggle traffic laws from a book Hermione's parents sent with them.

He'd learned how to avoid hitting things before Hermione had, as well as how to control the speed, but she'd learned the names of all the features, what it meant when the car made certain noises, and of course, the traffic laws before he did.

Now, Aunt Petunia's sitting in the passenger seat and staring blankly out the window with her hands twisting. He wouldn't be surprised if she literally thought she was going to die any moment. All she sees is the too-many stamps, lack of ability to use a telephone, and her relatives magically swollen.

Harry sometimes thinks if she would just talk to Hermione for a few minutes- but then, he remembers his mum was muggle-born, too.

Neither Vernon nor Dudley know about this, and despite his annoyance for secrecy of important things, he can't say he blames her. According to them, she's taking him to get his eye prescription updated, never mind the fact this hasn't happened since before he turned eleven.

Every year, at Hogwarts, he goes to Madam Pomfrey during the first weekend, and she does tests, and eventually, hands him a new pair of glasses.

Aunt Petunia’s about eight weeks along. Harry wasn't supposed to find out, either, but as everyone says, he has a 'saving people thing'. He'd heard a crash, burst into the bathroom, and found her holding a pregnancy test with a plus sign.

Helping her up, he asked, “You're having a baby?”

While he sat the toilet set lid down and helped her sit, she’d violently shaken her head. “No.”

For a moment, he assumed she thought the test was wrong and was about to offer to go buy a different one. He could go to the local library and use their internet to see what parts of the world Voldemort was attacking while he was out.

Then, the realisation had hit.

Lately, he's heard plenty of debate about it on the news and read about it in the paper, and his only reaction had been annoyance due to wishing the newscasters and reporters would focus on strange attacks leaving people dead or kidnapped. 

“I won't say a word,” he said before backing out and closing the door.

He's never been one for introspection on such issues. He believes in treating people with respect unless they aren't respectful, and he believes, aside from big secrets people need to know, a person has a right to privacy. He has no idea how Ron would feel, and he can see Hermione going one of two ways. Either his aunt has a perfect right to do whatever she wants with what's in her body, or his aunt is killing a helpless human.

Yesterday, she'd gotten a phone call, and she'd talked stiltedly for a few minutes. After she was done, he'd waited until they were alone in the house and asked, “Appointment scheduled?”

“It's none of your concern,” she'd snapped.

“Let me go with you,” he'd said. “You don't have a ride.”

“Oh, and I suppose you could drive me?”

“The Weasleys have been teaching me how,” he'd answered. “I imagine I can do better than Dudley.”

After she'd driven a few blocks from the house, they'd switched, and she'd given him instructions.

“Stop.”

He parks next to a curb and sees the protesters in front of the centre. A heavy sigh escapes from her, and she starts to reach over for her door. “Stay.”

From what little he’s been able to gather, some women can have the procedure in a regular hospital, and he wonders if the reason she isn’t is to keep either Uncle Vernon or her regular doctor from knowing.

He reaches over to stop her. “No. Just pretend they're cheering for Dudley at a match.”

Before she can argue, he restarts the car, pulls into the centre, and finds a place to park.

Briefly, he slips his hand into his pocket and is relieved to feel his wand. Getting out, he sees an escort with a sympathetic smile has come over.

They go around to Aunt Petunia's side, and she asks, “Would you like to hold onto me, ma'am?”

“Yes,” his aunt answers and clutches her while he walks opposite the escort.

“Looking forward to school, dear,” the escort asks with her voice loud and carrying.

“Yes, ma'am,” he answers. “I have a chance of making team captain this year.”

Between the escort's loud voice and his quiet one, they get Aunt Petunia inside without her seeming to register what the protesters are saying. He leads her to a seat, and they sit down.

“Thank you,” she tightly tells him.

Across from them sits a teenage girl who, aside from her Asian features, looks as if she could easily be a sister of Neville's. She sees him looking and smiles. “All right?”

“Yeah,” he answers.

“How old are you,” Aunt Petunia demands.

He glares at her, and she bristles. “Well, irresponsible teenage girls-”

“You don't know anything about her,” he points out.

To his surprise, she sighs. “No, I don't,” she acknowledges and picks up a nearby magazine.

“Evans, Petunia?”

She ignores his raised eyebrow, stands, and shakes her head when he starts to, too. “No. It's not allowed.”

Coming over to sit next to him, the girl says, “Thank you.”

“No problem. You- you don't have anyone with you?”

“My dad's furious,” she answers. “He dropped me off a block from here. I reckon it'll be best to find the nearest bus and take it rather than call.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It'll be fine,” she says. “It's nice you're so supportive of your mum.”

“Aunt,” he automatically corrects.

She winces at his sharpness.

“Sorry. She and I usually don't get along very well,” he confesses. “But I don't blame her for not wanting her husband and son to know. They and me are all she really has.”

“All I have are my parents. My mum is just determined to ignore everything, and well, like I said, Dad's furious.”

“It's none of my business, but um, the-”

He tries to figure out if ‘boy’, ‘man’, or ‘father’ is the right term.

“No,” she says. “That's not a good story, not at all.”

Remarkably, she sounds much like Luna, and he thinks of the blonde girl and round boy. They’re both kind to him and both somewhat helpless. If Neville and a girl- no offence to the boy in question, but he can't really imagine it- he imagines Neville would brave his anxiety and the slightly uneven steps outside so he could sit in the centre with the girl and hold her hand until her name was called. And Luna- he hates to imagine her in this situation; she'd probably try to talk to the protesters, and he can all too easily imagine one of them smacking her with a sign. He's heard of protesters attacking patients before.  

“I'm Harry,” he says. “Harry Potter.”

“Mei Charlton.” She shakes his hand.

Soon, her name's called.

0

Aunt Petunia doesn't protest as he helps Mei into the backseat. The escort, however, a different one from before, looks weary.

Harry's not sure he blames him.

He drives to Mei's house and stops at the curb.

“Thank you.” She leans up to kiss him on the cheek. “Hope your life is well.”

“You too,” he answers.

She gets out, walks up to her house, and lets herself in with a key.

“You really are your mother's boy,” Aunt Petunia tiredly comments.

Harry doesn't respond.

0

They get home, and she disappears into the bathroom.

He makes dinner and breakfast the next morning. Dudley talks about a date- really, all offence intended, he can't imagine Dudley ever getting into such a situation, but all the same, he shudders a bit at the thought- and Vernon talks about some new business deal.

Once again, he has to wonder if Vernon does know and, like Mei’s mum, is just determined to completely ignore it.

When Dumbledore comes a week later, he firmly tells her, “Send me a letter if there ends up being complications.”

“Yes,” she answers with her tone unreadable.  

Aunt Petunia isn't his family, not really, but things have changed. For better or worse, he doesn't know, but if it's for worst, he'll try to help her.


End file.
